


Five Outfits Adam Saw Will In +1 He Didn't

by CountessKlair



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: M/M, NSFW, Sexual Themes, Unresolved Sexual Tension, one very explicit dream sequence, overly detailed descriptions of my detective, poor oblivious detective kingston
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 08:45:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16215557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CountessKlair/pseuds/CountessKlair
Summary: Despite Adam’s best intentions and efforts, he’s noticed Will. And now he can’t stop noticing him.





	1. The Suit

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so the timing of this fic is throughout Book One and the demo of Book Two. All of this half is in Adam’s POV.

**Adam POV  
1: The Suit**

“Detective William Kingston,” Rebecca addressed her son with pride, “I’d like you to meet my team: Unit Bravo.”

William didn’t flinch at our sudden arrival, just nodded and smiled at us, “It’s nice to meet you all. I look forward to working with you.”

The detective was…handsome. I disliked using that word to describe him, but it was all I could think of when I studied him. He was about five foot seven, lithe but solidly built from the boxing career we’d read about in his file last night, his shiny, ink black hair styled in a clean faded undercut, dark stubble lining his sharp jaw, a full mouth tilted up in an easy and genuine smile, long lashes and thick brows accenting pale brown eyes.

His form was only heightened by his very professional attire, a black blazer, black slacks, and a white button-down open at the collar, hugging his body as he reached out to welcome us one by one.

I was able to keep myself from rolling my eyes when Mason immediately tried to pick a fight, and I said, “Save it, Mason.”

The detective’s eyes snapped to mine, narrowed slightly as he studied me. Very carefully, he smoothed imaginary wrinkles from his trim blazer, tilting his head ever so slightly as he asked, “I’m sorry, have we met before? Your voice…it’s very familiar.”

I could hear every heartbeat in the room’s but Mason’s speed up, especially when the detective continued lightly, “Much like a voice I heard on patrol last night.”

He was clever. Probably too clever for his own good. Hence our assignment ensuring that his cleverness didn’t kill him.

Rebecca immediately intercepted her son’s carefully worded accusation and put it to rest, and while the detective didn’t contradict his mother, I could almost see him file away the suspicion for later review in his head as he reached out to shake my hand.

As my hand reluctantly closed around his smaller, calloused one, I finally caught a full inhale of William’s pure scent.

Pine. 

Peppermint. 

Cinnamon and sugar and maple and warmth from his body heat and spring sunshine and worry and tension and expectancy and blood–

I jerked away from him and crossed my arms firmly, doing my best to take as few breaths as possible. This was going to be a long assignment.


	2. The Coat

**Adam POV  
2: The Coat**

Patrolling the town at night was such an incredibly stupid idea it made me genuinely wonder how the town of Wayhaven was still standing if all the people who ran it were as idiotic as the Mayor.

But it wasn’t my job to police human political leaders.

Mason cursed softly as the wind blew a bit stronger, and he buried his hands deeper into his coat, grinding his teeth in irritation from the cold. He opened his mouth to say something when we all heard the awful clunking of William–no, the detective’s–car turning onto the street.

Mason and I, being more sensitive to the sound of it, flinched at the screech of the car’s brakes as the detective carefully parked, then climbed out of his car, gave us a grateful smile and said, “Thank you all again so much for patrolling with me tonight. I think the citizens of Wayhaven will all agree they feel safer in the morning.”

He walked over to join us, digging his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and I frowned at his apparel.

The four of us had dressed warmly for the evening, knowing that it would likely be extremely chilly, but the detective wore lace-up boots, trim cut jeans, and what appeared to be three entirely different sweaters layered over one another. “Do you not own a coat, Detective?” I asked.

A slight coloring flooded his cheeks that I forced myself to ignore as he replied, “I did, and then I must’ve left it somewhere yesterday or the day before. I couldn’t find it when I left my apartment.”

I frowned harder. I’d only known him two weeks, but both the initial psych profile in the file we’d been given on him and personal experience since we’d met him agreed that the detective wasn’t one to lose things. “You need a coat, Detective.”

I heard Nate sigh softly in exasperation beside me.

William–the  _detective_ –didn’t do anything but smile a little wider and reassure me, “I ordered one on Amazon. Anyway, let’s get started, right?”

Mason muttered, “Thank fuck.”

We outfitted the detective with a radio, ironed out routes and meet up points, and then went on our way.

Much as I expected, nothing was moving about the town but a few wild animals who were unconcerned by the stench of human fear hovering in the air. No sign of Murphy from anything I could tell; and the silence of the radios informed me the same was true for the others.

When there were only forty-one minutes left before our agreed stopping point, I came back around to the stopping point near the mouth of an alley to find the detective already there, waiting. 

He blinked in surprise when he saw me. “Adam!”

I looked him over on reflex, recognizing adrenaline wafting over to me with the scent of his blood. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Have you found anything?” He asked. “Seen anyone?”

I shook my head. “The others will be reporting in with us soon. We can wait here until then.”

He nodded a little stiltedly and tucked his hands back in his pants pockets, huddling his body in on himself and away from the cold night.

I grimaced and forced myself not to comment once again on his lack of proper attire for the night. It was our duty to keep him safe and sound, and his recklessness when it came to his health was aggravating.

We stood in silence for a while, the detective’s eyes occasionally landing on me as I studied our surroundings, obviously lost in his thoughts, until eventually, he shook his head as if to clear it. 

“Are you all right?” I asked.

He nodded, turning his head away just as a slight flush bloomed in his cheeks, his blood scent turning sweeter with—

I cut that thought off at the root and asked abruptly, “Tell me, Detective, how did someone so…young…become a detective so quickly?”

I resisted the urge to wince at my own wording and turned to study the street while I waited for him to respond.

Finally, he shrugged. “Detective Reele was retiring. The police captain and the mayor decided I was best to replace her.”

I turned back to meet his gaze. “I’m surprised. You are far more competent than most detectives I’ve met.”

The detective’s eyes widened, and he blinked slowly at me, his lashes brushing his skin, that flush on his cheeks growing slightly.

I hadn’t actually planned on saying it, any of it, and the detective seemed to realize that as he stumbled, “Well, uh, thanks.”

My gaze was caught on him. On the way the moonlight fell across the planes of his face, the flush on his face, the way he breathed.

I looked away, frowning. “Let’s find the others. They’re taking too long.”

“Sounds good,” he replied, and both of us moved to move down the street. 

And then I caught it on the wind blowing at us. Something, some _one_ , raced towards us, fast, dark eagerness reaching out before them like slimy tendrils.

A vampire, specifically.

Murphy.

Coming for Will.

I jerked backward.

Behind me, Will did the same. “What is it?”

“I don’t know…” I answered softly.

I could hear Murphy getting closer, closer,  _closer_ , and I had to hide Will, had to protect him, keep him safe and sound and warm, keep him unharmed and untainted—

Untainted. Will’s scent. That was it. I could cover his scent with my own, throw Murphy off the trail.

I whipped around and snapped, “You must be cold.”

I didn’t wait for him to respond, shrugged off my coat, wrapped it around William, and made sure to keep my hands on the lapels of the coat to make absolutely sure he didn’t wander off into danger as he seemed determined to do.

I wanted him right there, with me.

Tense, I waited and continuously scented the air, listening intently with all of my senses for any change in Murphy’s path, until finally, Murphy’s scent drifted steadily away until only the memory of it remained.

I let out a small sigh of relief. Using my coat to mask Will’s scent had been rash, but it had paid off. 

With the threat gone, for now, I turned my focus back to William and found him standing there, flushed, his pulse fluttering against his skin and mine. The tips of his ears were red, and I realized when I had put the coat around him I’d yanked him forwards, completely into my space, his body barely a couple inches from my own.

Will’s pulse beat hard, the vibrations landing against my overly sensitive skin, heat crackled between the two of us, and I couldn’t help my throat tightening. 

William was…beautiful. Those eyes I’d noticed weren’t actually pale brown but a hazel swirl of blue and grey and green, accented by those long ink dark lashes that kissed the tops of his cheeks every time he blinked, the plush soft swell of his mouth, the pine and peppermint of his scent, the blood rushing through him and the way he breathed…

The way he looked in my coat. My scent winding with his. 

I gripped the lapels of the coat tighter, reluctant to let go for reasons I didn’t understand.

“There you guys are!” Felix called out through the heavy heat pressed between us, and I forced myself to hold back a snarl at the interruption. 

I hadn’t intended that reaction, and I took a wide step back from Will–the detective–and focused on the others. I grit my teeth as Felix’s gaze flickered between the Detective and myself.

Trying to distract Felix, I asked, “Did you come across anyone?”

Felix shook his head. “We thought we might have had someone,” he shot me a significant glance, indicating they’d picked up on the other vampire’s presence as well. “But it turned out to be nothing.”

The detective let out a sigh, and ran his hand over his hair, mussing its already disheveled state. I watched the collar of my coat rub against the thin, deep tawny skin of his throat, his pulse beat against the fabric.

“Let’s call it a night,” he said, “We should try to get a few hours of sleep before starting all over again tomorrow.”

I ignored Felix’s strange, amused smile that remained fixed on me as he said, “Looking forward to it, Detective.”

The detective pulled the garment from around him and held it out to me. “Thank you.”

I accepted it and pulled the coat back on. “You’re welcome.” I held his gaze for a moment, and then made myself look away.

The detective was just an assignment. That was all.


	3. The Gym Clothes

**Adam POV  
3: The Gym Clothes**

“Do you hear that?” Mason asked, and the rest of us looked up from our work, scattered about in the detective’s office as we were, and focused on hearing whatever Mason was hearing. 

The female officer, Tina, was on the phone with someone who was screaming about some sort of betrayal that involved a garden and a lawnmower, though they ignored all of Tina’s attempts to coax any further kind of information or detail out of them. 

As we heard the station doors open, the detective’s familiar heartbeat giving away his presence, Mason rolled his eyes, “I can’t wait until we’re out of here.” 

Felix lifted an eyebrow. “Because…?” 

Mason glared. “Small town problems.” 

Felix grinned, “You hate big city problems too.” 

Nate turned a page and commented mildly, “Mason dislikes a lot of things, Felix.” 

A crash came from the front of the station and all of us were on our feet, out the office door and ready to contain any situation in two seconds flat. 

What we saw was Tina rolling her eyes, Douglas blinking slowly in shock, and the detective, wearing a coat, track pants and sneakers, certainly not either his usual work attire nor the clothes he’d been wearing when he’d left the station, holding an extremely inebriated man up with one hand, a stern look on his face. “Mr. Potts if you throw another item I will have to add to the charges and you will have to serve jail time. Please relax and allow Officer Banks to process you.”

The inebriated man slurred a few words about never surrendering, but didn’t protest when an officer in blue, presumably Officer Banks, led him away. 

Tina, still holding the phone to her ear, looked down at the floor and sighed. “I liked that candy jar too.” 

The source of the crash, a broken glass candy dish as it was now revealed, lay shattered at the detective’s feet. 

Will–the detective–briefly closed his eyes and sighed. “Douglas, could you get a broom and dustpan and clean this up please?” 

Douglas frowned heavily but turned to follow instructions. 

The detective spotted us and smiled. “Sorry about the noise, gentlemen.” 

It was then that I noticed that he looked quite…flushed. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his thick hair was pushed back away from his face. 

Tina, completely ignoring the person still screaming on the other end of her phone conversation, nodded at Will’s hands, which were wrapped with white athletic tape for some reason, with a raised brow. “Spent your lunch break at the gym boxing again?” 

He grinned shyly and shrugged. 

And then, with a single move so graceful and smooth I couldn’t believe it was an unrehearsed action, Will shrugged off his coat. 

Will wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Which meant that every inch the coat revealed was bare, deep tawny brown skin, glistening with sweat, his form defined and solid, the muscles shifting and bunching with his movements as he hung up the coat and began unwrapping the tape around his hands. “Wasn’t hungry, needed to think. And then Charlie notified me Mr. Potts was publicly intoxicated outside the station’s gym, so.”

I could barely hear any of it. Will was still breathing a little roughly, his chest moving deeply as he inhaled and exhaled, and his scent was so fucking heady…

Pine, peppermint, sweat, determination, victory, confidence, blood and that damned sugary spice. 

I couldn’t breathe deep enough. 

A throat cleared beside me and I snapped back to reality. To where I was. I looked over to see Nate smiling in a somewhat strained fashion and I knew that the sweat heightening Will’s scent was definitely pushing Nate’s limits. 

“Detective,” Nate said, “you could’ve called us and we would have brought him in while you…finished your workout.” 

Will frowned in confusion for a moment before he looked down at himself, apparently realized for the first time that his torso was completely bare, and blushed to his scalp. Even his chest burned red with color. “Well. Uh. I needed to be getting back anyway, and I didn’t know if you guys had finished your lunch, so…” Will cleared his throat, obviously trying not to appear too self-conscious as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Anyway. Um. I’ve got a change of clothes in my car, I’m gonna go grab them and uh…shower up in the locker rooms. I’ll, uh, be back in a bit.” 

And then he ducked out the door, completely forgetting to put on his coat.  

Tina, still ignoring the person on the line, chuckled at the four of us and our bewildered expressions. “Sorry to say but it only gets worse the longer you’re around him.” 

Felix tilted his head. “What does?” 

Tina motioned towards the door Will–the  _detective_ –had left through. “Will. Doing that thing where he just exudes pure sensuality like a jungle cat. Poor kid has absolutely no idea he’s doing any of it.” 

Mason snorted. “I doubt that.” 

Tina huffed and leaned against the counter. “Look. Would the same man who is so dedicated to doing his job all the way, the right way, the first time, all the time, purposefully show up to work shirtless? This being the same man who still blushes every single time anyone, even Maryanne the three-hundred-year-old cougar on Lime Street, calls him cute?” 

She let the words hang for a bit before grinning at us and saying, “If he knew half of what he was doing he’d melt into a self-conscious puddle, poor thing.” and then she turned her attention completely to the person on the phone. 

The four of us stood there a beat, then glanced at each other, then out the plate glass French door entrance to where Will stood outside his crummy car, still shirtless, bent completely horizontal at the waist to dig through his trunk, unaware that a dog walker had completely stopped in her tracks to watch. 

I spun away from the doors and turned to go back into the detective’s office. How he behaved was not my problem if it didn’t endanger his life. It was not my problem whatsoever. There was no need for me to watch and see him walk back inside the station and see his skin…to see anything. No reason at all. 

I sat back down in the office and buried myself in case notes.


	4. The Club

**Adam POV  
4: The Club Shirt**

I grit my teeth as we approached the bar. “The detective better be here.”

“If he’s not,” Felix chirped, “it’s totally up to you to tell Rebecca that we lost him.” 

“Seconded,” Mason drawled.

The bar was crowded and loud, music pumping, the overwhelming scent of too much alcohol and too many mixed perfumes, colognes, deodorants, bodily odors and fluids practically blinding me. Which was part of the reason why I didn’t realize we’d found the detective until we literally almost stepped on him.

“Oh!” A man with thick, messy black hair and a cherry red leather jacket exclaimed and stumbled when the messy swarm of bodies pushed me into him. 

I reached out and steadied him with my hands, ready to move away as quickly as possible before the smell of pine and peppermint cleared my head.

I snapped my gaze down, and sure enough, it was—“Detective?” Nate asked in surprise.

I couldn’t speak.

The other part of the reason why I hadn’t realized we’d found the detective until we literally almost stepped on him was because Will looked almost unrecognizable from the prim and proper man we’d spent day in and day out with for almost three weeks now.

He wore his hair much messier than usual with glitter somehow sprinkled through it, a cherry red leather jacket with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, skintight black jeans, and slim black boots. Beneath the jacket…god beneath the jacket was the thinnest, sheerest excuse of a black shirt I’d ever seen in my long life, showing off Will’s muscled body, which for a reason I couldn’t discern was held incredibly tense.

“Oh! Hey, I didn’t, um, expect to see you guys here!” Will said, embarrassment tinging his words.

I forced my gaze up from his chest, his stomach his sharp hipbones, to his face and it was so much worse.

Will was wearing makeup.

Felix and Nate had experimented enough with it in recent years that I could recognize the mascara lengthening Will’s already long, thick lashes, the glow of highlighter across his cheekbones, and the slick lip gloss painted across his mouth that was the same cherry red shade as his jacket.

I was…he…I couldn’t…god, his  _mouth_ …

“Huh,” Mason commented under his breath.

Felix squealed and pushed forward to admire Will’s face. “You look so good! I love that lip color on you.”

And just like that, all of the tension I’d noticed flooded from Will, and he smiled brilliantly at us. “Thank you, Felix! Tina wanted to come out tonight and I wanted to get a feel for the mood of the town, so we went out for a drink.” Will looked behind us as the familiar sound of Tina Poname’s laughter reached us, and frowned, “I think Tina and I have very different definitions for that.”

I couldn’t make myself turn away to look at whatever Tina was doing, although Felix chuckled and Nate said, “I’d be happy to put her in a cab home.”

Will nodded gratefully. “That’d be great, Nate, thank you.”

“Why didn’t you put her in a cab yourself? Were you planning on getting that intoxicated this evening? In the middle of a case?” I hadn’t meant to speak at all, not trusting my mouth or my head, and I wasn’t even sure I’d spoken aloud until Nate sighed heavily and left while Mason snorted in amusement and Felix choked on his laughter.

Will–the detective–took a deep breath, his smile shrinking as he replied slowly, “I was on my way back from the bathroom right now, intent on putting both her and myself into a cab home when we bumped into each other. As for your second and third questions, I haven’t had anything alcoholic at all tonight because I don’t drink while I’m working.”

There wasn’t much I could say to that except, “Good.” But as the word escaped in a sharp exhale I knew that somehow that was worse.

Felix shoved me to the side in order to stand closer to the detective as he asked, “Surely you’re not going home now, are you? Why don’t you stay and have a few drinks with us?”

The detective frowned, glancing up at me through thick, black lashes. “Well, I, uh…”

Nate materialized from the crowd. “At least stay with us while we have a drink, Detective. Tell us about how it went at the hospital.”

Right.

That was the reason we’d come into the bar looking for Will. He’d gone missing today, recklessly endangered his life. Right.

Will bit his white teeth into the plump, cherry red glossy swell of his lower lip. “Well…sure. Why not?”

Mason turned and started leading us to a booth at the back, farthest away from the speakers, and that was when I saw Will put his hands in the back pockets of those skintight black jeans as he followed Mason, his hands cupping—

I snarled quietly to myself. I needed to get the information about everything that had happened since the detective left the station, make sure to impress upon him he was not to go anywhere during work hours without one of us present again, and then send him home, safe and in the dark. This was  _just_  an assignment. Period.

An hour of somewhat strained and then extremely strained conversation, then a full twenty minutes of fighting off Murphy’s Thralls with the detective showcasing just  _why_ he’d been a champion boxer later, unconscious Thralls lay scattered across the asphalt outside of the bar, and Will lay similarly still while Mason took care of the Thrall who’d struck him.

I brushed a silky strand of black hair out of Will’s eyes and Nate sighed very vehemently, “Well,  _shit_.”


	5. The Extra Bedroom and The Pajamas

**Adam POV  
4.5: The Extra Bedroom**

It happened on the third day we were staying in the detective’s apartment when Felix asked what the other door in the hallway went to. 

“Wait…William, I thought you said you only had one bedroom?” Nate asked, head tilted to the side. 

“I do. Well. I only have one bedroom with an actual bed in it.” The detective replied, not looking up from where he stood, mixing batter together in the kitchen. 

“Then what’s in the other bedroom?” Felix asked. 

The detective froze up, and a soft pink blush spread on the high points of his cheekbones. “It’s…uh…nothing.”

Mason, who had been ignoring everyone completely up until that point, grinned viciously. “I bet I have an idea.”

The blush on the detective’s face deepened. “No! No no no, it’s nothing like that, it’s just…private.”

Mason laughed. “Then it’s exactly what I’m thinking.”

Felix stood from his chair and hopped over to the hallway to the door in question. “Well there’s an easy way to settle this, I’ll look and see.”

I pushed away from the window. “Felix-“

Nate stood up from the couch, putting down his book. “Felix-“

The detective dropped his mixing bowl with a clatter and rushed after Felix. “No, Felix please-“

Mason’s grin couldn’t possibly get wider. “Yes, Felix, please!”

But there was no stopping him, and the door was open. Felix stood there, jaw dropped, silent. 

Finally, Mason huffed, “Well, is it BDSM toys or not? Does he have a wall of whips in there?”

Will turned around and made a strangled sound of protest, wringing flour and batter covered hands together. 

Felix breathed, “Holy crap, Will, these are amazing.”

Felix walked inside the room, and Nate immediately followed to control the situation, and I heard Nate gasp, “Oh, my word…”

Curious, I went to join them. 

The second ‘bedroom’ in the apartment was set up sort of like an office, two large tables making an L shaped desk in one corner of the room holding large sketch pads, assorted coloring and writing utensils, and an industrial sewing machine, while a large, deep bookshelf holding fabrics, scissors, chalks, and an abundance of needles and thread was on the same wall as the door, and in the other corner were four male mannequins dressed or draped with fabrics and clothes in various stages of completion. 

And the walls were covered in sketches of clothes. Suits, casual wear, black tie formal wear, splashes of colors and patterns, some pieces that featured wearable haute couture elements, it was all so vibrant and beautiful. 

“Huh,” I heard Mason say behind me. 

Nate fingered the edge of a sketch that included a lilac cape. “Did you make all of these, William?”

The detective edged forward, blush still hot on his cheeks as he nodded. “Yeah. It’s…another one of my hobbies. Idle hands do the devils work, and all that…” 

Nate and I immediately looked at Felix and Mason. 

Felix blinked, “What?” and Mason rolled his eyes and walked away with a bored expression on his face. 

I walked further into the room to look closer at one of the sketches near the window that had caught my eye. 

It was of a sunset orange and gold dress draped over a male form, long, flowing, loosely fitted and airy. It was elegant and oddly reminded me of the fabrics worn by ancient Greeks. 

The dress was like the embodiment of a sunset, the bold colors adding vibrancy and vivacity to the page, and I could see, in my head, Will wearing it, walking along a white sanded beach in the sweltering heat of summer against the dark blue ocean.

“This is lovely,” I said. 

There was a long silence following my words. 

Finally, I turned to find Nate, Felix, and Will all staring at me. 

I scowled. “What?” 

Nate just shook his head and turned to study the mannequins. “William, I can’t help but notice, is this the same fabric as the suit you wore yesterday?” 

He nodded. “Yeah. I make sure to use up all of the fabrics I buy, wherever and whenever possible.” 

Felix spun on his heel. “Wait. Have you made all the clothes we’ve seen you in?” 

Will blinked. “Um, I’m sure I bought some of them?” 

“What about what you were wearing when we met you at the bar the night the Thralls attacked?” Felix asked and ignored my glare entirely. 

Will lifted his hands to rub the back of his head but stopped at the last moment before smearing flour and batter over it. “Uh, the shirt and the jacket, yes.” 

Nate’s eyebrows went up. “You made that leather jacket?” 

Will nodded. 

“But not the jeans?” Felix clarified. 

“No,” the detective replied, “I have trouble with pants, it’s hard to tailor them myself so I only do them when absolutely necessary.” 

I could hear Mason snort in the living room. 

The timer on the oven dinged happily and Will visibly brightened. “Oh! I need to get the cheesecake out of the oven. Please don’t rip or move anything, but feel free to look around.” 

And then he left. 

Nate trailed his fingers along the sleeve of a half-completed blazer. “These are very good.” 

Felix hummer in agreement, bouncing in the balls of his feet. “I wonder why he didn’t want us to know about it?” 

Nate shrugged easily. “Sometimes humans are cautious of sharing creative pursuits with others.” 

“But why?” Felix asked.

“Sometimes the response can be…unpleasant.” I supplied. 

“Mm. To say the least.” Nate agreed. 

“That’s dumb.” Felix huffed and rolled his eyes, taking one last look around the room. “But these are great. He’s very talented, our detective, isn’t he?” 

Felix walked out of the room and Nate followed. 

I stayed for a moment, once again looking at the sunset colored dress. “Yes,” I whispered softly, just to myself. “He really is.”

* * *

**Adam POV  
5: The Pajamas**

Living with the detective, for any length of time, I was sure would be unbearable.

But…in practice…it wasn’t totally and unbearably horrible.

Sure, there was the incessant baking of every dessert in creation whenever the detective wasn’t actively working on the case or boxing in the Wayhaven gym, and while I never ate anything he made I did have to grudgingly admire him making so many things so quickly in the small space that was the excuse of a kitchen he owned, the soft humming while mixing ingredients, singing along sweetly to whatever he was playing from his phone, the occasional bright laugh. The sincere offer of absolutely anything in his admittedly extended library and overstocked pantry.

His scent saturating absolutely everything in the apartment, his pine and peppermint blood scent, in turn, sinking into the seams of my clothes.

But other than that it was…fine.

After a solid routine of five weekdays, it was eight am on Saturday. Nate was reading the Wayhaven Chronicle, Felix was knitting something that was, I assumed, supposed to resemble a sweater, and Mason and I were observing the streets of Wayhaven through the detective’s living room windows.

Usually, Will–ugh, the detective–rose by six thirty and was at the station by seven forty-five. He had a set routine that he stuck to, but today I hadn’t heard him moving around in his bedroom and bathroom until fifteen minutes ago, and he hadn’t yet come out. I was wondering faintly if someone should knock on the door and ask after him when his door opened and he walked out.

I nearly choked on my tongue as Will walked out, once again shirtless. He yawned sleepily, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands before running his fingers through his hair as he ambled towards the coffee maker in the small kitchen.

He was barefoot and completely sleep mussed, sheet creases crossing his cheeks and chest, his red and black plaid sleep pants hanging so low on his hips I would see the black elastic band of his underwear hugging his sharp hips, the fabric tightening over his form as he walked, the fabric so tight it practically lifted up his–

Felix cleared his throat loudly and I glanced over at him to find him waggling his eyebrows at me and ignoring my irritated glare as he called out, “Good morning, Detective!”

Will–the  _detective_ –hummed something so softly I barely heard it, though as the coffee machine began to burble and drip into the waiting mug, the sound grew louder and happier.

Before I knew it, Will bent over on his elbows on the kitchen counter, his face turned towards the coffee maker, his backside to us, and he sighed softly, dreamily, “Come on, baby, give it to me, I need it.”

There was a soft crack under my hand on the window ledge that I barely heard.

The fabric covering Will’s ass was pulled taut as he shifted at the kitchen counter, the round globes swaying slightly as he moved, his mouth open as he pulled in deep, long inhales of coffee scented air, his eyes glazed and hazy, the lids lower and lower everytime he blinked, those long lashes kissing his cheeks every single time–

And then his eyes didn’t open after a blink and between one moment and the next Will slipped off the counter and fell onto the ground in a heap.

I jolted away from the window, at his side in a flash, but he was already groaning and sitting up, rubbing his side. “Jeez,” he grimaced, “I have to stop falling asleep standing up.”

Felix burst out laughing, and I could feel Nate and Mason smiling behind me.

My movements stiff, I helped Will–ugh,  _ **the detective**_ –stand up and then I snapped, “I’m going to patrol the block outside.”

I didn’t allow anyone to reply before I was out the door and down the stairwell.

Even the sharp, cold air outside didn’t completely clear my head immediately. When I blinked, for a single moment, all I could see was Will laying across that counter, sighing those  _words_ …

“Fuck.” I hissed to myself as I stomped down the street, intent on not going back inside until my head was screwed on straight.


	6. The...?

**Adam POV  
6: The…?**

“Oh! Adam!” Will blinked up at me, color flooding his cheeks and surprise and embarrassment tinging his blood scent. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect you to…I wasn’t ready for, um, visitors.”

I knew he hadn’t been expecting anyone.

He didn’t look like he’d been expecting anyone. Because I knew that he was not seeing anyone by now, and not just from his Agency file. 

But what he was wearing when I’d barged into his apartment, looking for him after he’d once again recklessly left us behind, was definitely something you’d wear for someone you were sleeping with.

Pure, pale cream silk wrapped around his body, a button-down that was much too large for him giving glimpses of rich, deep tawny skin and a matching pair of pure, pale cream silk boxer briefs that skimmed across his body, and unlike the shirt, the boxer briefs were the perfect fit. It was like lingerie, but better. So much fucking better.

Will was barefoot, looking oddly vulnerable because of it. Just this once, just one time, I let my gaze drag long and slow up the length of his body, drinking in the sight completely, taking my time.

When I reached his face, I noticed that his full mouth was slick with that damned fucking cherry red lip gloss, and I barely held back the sound that suddenly wanted to escape me.

Will took a deep breath, swallowed. “I…I should um…go change.”

I didn’t respond, just watched the movement in his elegant throat, heard the uptick of his pulse through the thin and vulnerable skin there, smelled the sweetening of his blood with arousal.

“Do you want me to go change?” Will asked softly.

I didn’t dare move forward. I kept eye contact as I said, “Only if you want to.”

Another deep breath.

Another hard swallow followed by the strengthening of that heady scent.

Will took a step forward. “Do you…do you want…maybe…” Will searched my face for a moment, then set his shoulders and asked, “Do you want to touch me?”

I replied, “Only if you want me to.”

Will shuddered a little, nodding quickly.

“I need the words, William.” I murmured.

Will’s pupils dilated. “Yes,” he breathed, “Touch me, Adam.”

My cock was swollen in my pants, but I didn’t move fast. I wanted this to last as long as it absolutely could.

I made sure the door was closed, locked. I kept eye contact with Will as I moved forward, slow by steady, watching for any change in his expression or in those gorgeous hazel eyes.

I stopped a scant inch from him, his head tilted back so he could continue looking up at me, and I just kept breathing in deep lungfuls of his pine and peppermint and blood.

“Touch me, Adam,” Will whispered. “Please.”

I reached out with one hand, cupped his square, stubbled jaw. Traced the edge of it with my thumb, from his ear to his chin, my thumb resting in the divot below his cherry red stained, glossy lower lip. I could see his boxer briefs straining against his erection. Slowly, intently, I pressed my thumb into that slippery, sticky surface, caressing the soft, thick swell, smearing the gloss. 

“So fucking gorgeous, William,” I growled, my dick practically throbbing.

Will’s pupils widened further, the scent of arousal pouring off of him as his mouth fell open, a rush of breath escaping him. “Adam,” he said, and then his mouth closed around my thumb. Warm, wet heat wrapped around the digit, his tongue caressing and curling around my thumb. Then he sucked, lightly for a moment, as if testing my reaction, then harder, his cheeks hollowing.

I snarled and some of my self-control snapped.

With my free hand, I reached beneath the silk shirt and clasped the small of his back, yanking him forward, crushing his body against mine.

Will let out a high pitched whine, his hips rolling against my body, trying desperately to provide himself with friction. “God,” he grunted, “knew you were a big dick.”

I chuckled at him, running my hand over every inch of his skin I could reach as my thumb continued to rub across his parted lips, smearing the sticky gloss everywhere, the other hand not dipping below his boxer briefs, not yet.

Then I heard the stuttering of Will’s heart, the shallowness of his breathing. He was working himself up too much, too fast, his mouth hanging open wide as his hips thrust, panting heavily, his hands tangled in my shirt. 

His eyes met mine, glazed and hazy and slightly panicked.

“Shh,” I hushed him, removed my spit and gloss slicked thumb from his open mouth and ignored his soft protest, reached behind him and picked him easily up by the backs of his thighs, carrying him over to his living room couch, sitting down on it and settling Will on my lap.

“Adam,” he panted, hips still rolling, hands clutching my shirt.

“It’s ok, William,” I hushed him, rubbed firm but reassuring circles into the skin of his back, gently squeezing the sides of his ribcage to ground him, listening to his heart slow to a more normal rate, his breathing ease. “I’m here, I’ve got you. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Will narrowed his eyes at me. “I only wanna do what you wanna do.”

I smiled at him. “Will-”

“I wanna do everything with you, Adam.” He raised his calloused hands to cup my face, tracing his thumbs under my eyes. “Everything.”

I took a deep breath.

Pine.

Peppermint.

Blood.

Arousal.

And security.

I leaned my head forward and tucked my face into the skin of Will’s neck, tugging him to sit fully in my lap, the both of us groaning when our dicks rubbed together. My hands lowered to cup the round globes of Will’s perfect, pert ass. Gripping their fullness, I ground him harder into me, and Will gasped sharply, his nails digging into my back and my neck from where he gripped me. 

“William,” I hummed into his neck, “I’m gonna give you anything you want.”

My eyes shot open and I bolted upright.

My chest was heaving, confusion making my mind spin, spin, spin…

And then the furniture of my new room at the recently finished Agency warehouse in Wayhaven came into sharp focus. 

It had been a dream.

A really, really,  _really fucking vivid dream that had left me aching and hard._

But just a dream.

With a groan, I collapsed back onto my bed, willing my arousal to go away. Trying to force the image of Will, panting and desperate for  _me_ , out of my mind, force all of it away and forget it all forever.

_“I wanna do everything with you, Adam.”_

God, it was like I was still dreaming, like he was right beside me. My hips rolled involuntarily at the thought.

Snarling I threw back the covers and reached for my sneakers. I needed a workout. That was it. That was  _ALL_.

* * *

**Will POV  
6: Part Two**

_“I wanna do everything with you, Adam.”_

I gasped awake, heart racing, blood pounding under my skin.

“Well,” I gasped to myself, “at the very least that’s less disturbing than the other reasons you’ve woken up in the middle of the night when it comes to your dreams.”

I ignored the throbbing of my lower body, the need in my veins, and lay back down, trying to go back to sleep.

God, it had felt so real. I could feel the silk on my skin in the dream, could feel Adam’s shirt under my hands, feel Adam’s  _hands_ , god fucking dammit, his big, rough hands on my skin, his thumb in my mouth, his low, low voice calling me beautiful like he meant it…

“Don’t do it…” I begged myself, even as my hand slipped into my pants.

It was over embarrassingly quickly, the vivid dream still much too fresh in my mind, my body already strained and ready to come. 

As I levered myself up to reach the bathroom to clean up on shaky legs, I sighed at myself, “You’re in a huge mess, William Kingston. Just a huge fucking mess.”


End file.
